


Are you always this articulate?

by i_took_the_sense_of_humor_in_the_divorce



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Simon Snow, Oblivious Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Pining, Sarcastic Niall, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Loves Simon Snow, Watford (Simon Snow), idiots in general, idiots to lovers, they're dumb but I love them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:40:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_took_the_sense_of_humor_in_the_divorce/pseuds/i_took_the_sense_of_humor_in_the_divorce
Summary: The Mage found out that Simon was going to go to Hampshire with Baz over Christmas break, and rather than tell him about former Headmistress Natasha Pitch’s orders to seek out Nicodemus and find her killer, Simon told him that Baz and him were dating. Now Simon has to spend Christmas break with Baz at Pitch Manor, pretending to be his boyfriend.
Relationships: Dev & Niall & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Fiona Pitch & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 92
Kudos: 260





	1. The Guinness World Record’s Record for the Worst Idea Ever

**Baz**

Simon Snow barreled into our room as I was packing my suitcase for Christmas break.

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend”, he blurts out.

“Absolutely not.” I automatically respond, without registering what he said.

“I told the Mage we were dating.”

I whirl around to face him.

“You did what?” I hiss like his words burned me. They might as well have.

“Okay, well, you see, he was going to send me to a care home over holiday, because he doesn’t want me to be at Watford alone, so I told him I was going to Hampshire with you, but then he asked why, and so I panicked and told him we were dating, because I figured it probably wouldn’t be a great idea to tell him about your mum, and the Visiting, and how we’re trying to find her killer, and Nicodemus, because you don’t really like the Mage, and he doesn’t really like you, or your parents.” Simon rambles breathlessly.

For someone who thinks so little, he hardly ever stops talking.

“Let me get this straight.” I start unsteadily, “You want me to bring you home _to my father_ , presenting _you_ , the boy who’s destined to _kill me_ , the one person my family hates almost as much as the _Mage himself_ , the _Mage’s heir_ , as my boyfriend.”

This idea is terrible. If setting a chimera against Snow as revenge was the last holder of “The Guinness World Record’s Record for the Worst Idea Ever”, this stunt Snow just pulled blew that out of the water.

Simon is chewing on his lip. I wish I could be the one chewing on his lip. Crowley, I’m disturbed.

“I know it’s a lot, but it was the only reason for me coming to your house that I could think of.”

I paused to rethink things. Maybe, if I brought home a boyfriend, no not just any boyfriend, the boy my father would disapprove of most, maybe he’ll finally give up on constantly trying to marry me off to girls from the Old Families. This could work in my favor too if we both play along well enough.

The real question is how I’d ever be able to recover from pretending to date Simon Snow. He’s like the sun, bright and beautiful, yet dangerous. And I am extremely flammable, in more ways than one.

It’s unfair to put him in that situation when he doesn’t know I’m hopelessly in love with him.

But he’s not exactly giving me any choice.

So, when he asks me again, I sneer at him.

“Fine, but we need to set some rules.”

He looks relieved that I agreed to go along with this stupid plan.

“Right. What do you have in mind?”


	2. electric boogaloo

**Baz**

I sit on my bed and think for a moment.

“First of all,” I smirk at him, “I know I’m a hot commodity, Snow, but you can’t fall in love with me.”

This may be a symbiotic arrangement, but I’m not about to miss an opportunity to tease him.

The tips of his ears turn red and he wrinkles his nose at me.

“Not an issue, Tyrannus.”

I hate when he uses my legal name. He knows I hate it. That’s why he _does_ it.

“Second of all, I get to pick out what you wear.”

His jaw goes slack.

“What? Why?”

I pointedly look his uniform up and down. Somewhat of an excuse to check him out, but we won’t dwell on that.

He huffs at me.

“Fine, but you have to follow one of my rules.”

I sigh, “What are your rules, Snow?”

“Just one: you aren’t allowed to date Agatha.”

Sad, that that’s what he wants from me. Sad, but not surprising.

Luckily for me, it’s a non-issue.

“Fine, Snow. But one more thing…”

I pull my wand from out of my back pocket.

“We both have to swear not to tell anyone that it’s fake. It has to be believable.”

Simon gets up awkwardly, “Not even Penny? I tell Penny everything!”

I shake my head, “No one can know. Not even Bunce.”

He mulled it over, before eventually agreeing.

He grabs my hand.

“I swear not to tell anyone about our arrangement, and I promise to follow all of your rules.”

I raise my wand to cast the spell.

“Wait!”

I pause.

“You still have to promise to follow _my_ rule.”

I sigh, and look down at our still joined hands.

“I promise not to date Wellbelove.”

He smiled wider than I was comfortable with.

“ **An Englishman’s Word is His Bond**!”

**Simon**

I’m surprised that Baz agreed to that. He’s been chasing Agatha since even before she had broken up with me.

I have to be careful. Baz and I may be on truce, but that doesn’t make him less dangerous. He’s still a vampire. Still a creature of darkness. Still my enemy. And now, I guess I’m adding fake boyfriend to that list.

He snatched his hand from mine as soon as the spell was cast. Not that it matters. Of course he would. But he did it so quickly, like it hurt for me to touch him. I don’t know a lot about vampires. Does it hurt them to touch other people? Maybe. I’ll have to look into that later.

No sooner had Baz pulled away from me, he sneered and said in an even tone, “This seems like a good time to tell you that I’m gay.”

What.

Baz is gay?

What??

Baz is gay!

WHAT?!?!

**Baz**

Simon looks like he has completely mentally shut down. He hasn’t said anything. He’s just blinking at me.

I try to think of some sarcastic wit to add to make it seem like a less vulnerable thing to tell him, but I come up empty-handed for once.

After what must have been forty-five seconds of awkward silence, he seems to regain consciousness. I’m starting to get worried. Is Snow homophobic? Probably not, since he told the Mage we’re dating, but his reaction makes me unsure.

“Oh.” He says, lamely.

“Oh?” I probe for more of a reaction.

He shrugs. “Okay.”

I sneer at him before spitting out, “Are you always this articulate?”

He shrugs again.

“I mean, it’s cool. It doesn’t change anything.”

I stare at him almost incredulously.

Something seems to click in his brain and he gasps, “Wait, are you not out to your father? Crowley, Baz, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, I really didn’t know, I swear-”

I interrupt before he can go any further, “No, Snow. I’m out to my father.”

He looks at me hesitantly, “Does he… um… is he…?”

I sigh. This is far too intimate a conversation for us.

I settle on, “Not exactly.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, Baz.”

I clear my throat.

“It’s… fine. I just think you should know that before you meet him while pretending to be my boyfriend.”

“Oh. Right.”

“What have you decided to tell Wellbelove?”

“Agatha? What do you mean?”

He’s so stupid sometimes.

I roll my eyes and snap, “Your _girlfriend_ is probably going to have questions, Snow.”

He made a face like he’d just been given a shot at the doctor’s.

“ _Ex_ -girlfriend. We broke up.”

I feel like celebrating, but that would be ungallant, and all too telling of my feelings on the matter.

Instead I clear my throat and will a neutral expression onto my face.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Snow. I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well… wait a second… why were you always flirting with Agatha if you’re gay, anyway?”  
  


I’m lucky he’s so oblivious, otherwise hiding my jealousy would have be more difficult.

“I thought it bothered you, and I was right.”

“So… it didn’t mean anything?”

“Obviously not.”

He scowled at me. “You’re such an annoying prick.”

“Says the one who’s forcing me to be your pretend boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah, because telling the Mage the real reason we’re spending holiday together was a better option.”

He’s gotten better at bickering since we agreed to a truce. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t really mean as much. We still don’t get along, but we both know there’s no risk of it escalating past empty insults and petty remarks. He doesn’t get as flustered, which I have to admit is somewhat disappointing.

I like making him flustered.

I don’t say anything, instead I go back to packing my suitcase. We’re leaving for Hampshire tomorrow. Normally Fiona would have picked me up, but when Snow agreed to come back to Hampshire for Christmas, I told her I’d take the train. The longer I avoid having the two of them in close quarters together, the better.

Crowley is Fiona going to have a field day when I tell her that we’re dating. She’ll probably try to kill him. She’ll definitely try to throttle me.

Father might have an aneurism when I show up hand in hand with Simon Snow. I don’t want to think about him now, though.

Snow decides to pack too, which I’m somewhat surprised about. He isn’t usually one to plan ahead. What doesn’t surprise me is Snow’s idea of packing equating to shoving all 4 of his outfits into his beaten up backpack.

He didn’t even fold them first. I don’t say anything, though.

We’ve reached a sort of equilibrium between fighting and being decent to each other, and although it makes it impossible to ignore my feelings for him, I don’t want to ruin it.

Normally I would tell Snow just what I thought of his careless slobbery, but we have more important things at stake right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo! I'm back!! :) 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this fic, it's just a little exercise I've been using to further procrastinate doing my work, but I thought I might as well publish it so you guys can read it to further procrastinate doing your own work! (We're procrastination buddies now)
> 
> Thank's for reading and I'll see you soon!! :) <3 <3


	3. Prep the couch, indeed

**Simon**

The next morning, I woke up to find Baz already awake and dressed. Baz _never_ gets up before me.

“Why are you up so early?” I ask him, still only barely awake.

“We have a lot to do today, Snow. It’s best for us to get a head start.”

I sit up in bed, blinking away my bleary-ness, “What do you mean? We’re just going to your house today, right? Why do we need to get up so early for that?”

Baz raised his eyebrow and parted his lips slightly, I’m not sure whether it was look of confusion or contempt. It’s a good look for him, either way. Practically every look is good for him, though. He’s too bloody perfect, it’s infuriating.

“You do know that isn’t all we have to do today, right Snow?”

I’m lost.

“It isn’t?”

“No, Snow. We’re going out to buy you new clothes, and then we have dinner with my family.”

My mouth hangs open.

“Shopping? Really, Baz? And I thought it was a given that we’d be eating with your family, isn’t that what families do?”

He seemed to pull into himself at that last part, “Not all families, Snow. And you’d be delusional if you thought I was going to let you wear your Watford uniform to meet my father as my boyfriend.”

“ _Pretend_ boyfriend.”

He rolled his eyes so hard that I’m not sure how they stayed in his face.

“No shit, Sherlock.” He said, mildly pissed, “But my father isn’t supposed to know that. If I let you show up in whatever clothes you already own, he’d see through us in a second.”

“But Baz, I don’t have any money for new clothes.” Technically, I do have some money, but I don’t think most Normal shops accept leprechaun gold.

He straightened his tie and tilted his chin up like he does when he wants to look down at someone.

“Not an issue, Snow. I’ll be paying.”

I get out of bed and grab a change of clothes so I can shower.

“Baz, I can’t let you do that.”

He scoffs at me like I’m missing something painfully obvious.

“Of course you can, Snow.”

I frown at him, but I remember that this was Rule Two. “Nothing expensive, okay? I don’t want to be indebted to you.”

He turned away from me to place his precious hair gel and comb in his suitcase.

“I assure you, Snow, this is entirely for my own personal gain, but if you insist then, fine. Nothing expensive.”

**Baz**

I don’t intend to purchase _anything_ inexpensive today.

First expensive item of the day: our train tickets. This is the last chance I’m going to get to pretend to be Snow’s doting boyfriend, at least in public. I intend to make it as frivolous as possible.

Frivolous is a bit of a stretch when it comes to the train cars. For what I spent to upgrade our tickets, it was exceptionally lame. We did get our own small compartment, complete with a booth and a table, but for a day trip it’s a bit pointless. Snow seems to like it though, so it wasn’t a complete waste.

He practically bounced into the small room, giddy like a child. Fucking adorable.

I sipped on a travel mug filled with café mocha and an unhealthy amount of sugar. I’ve decided that I’m just going to enjoy this, future aftermath be damned. As long as I get to spoil Simon Snow, under the guise of self-preservation, I don’t care _why_ he’s letting me do it.

I wasn’t entirely honest to him earlier. Father won’t care what Snow is wearing. He won’t even notice. But Simon needs nicer clothes, and if this is the only way I’m able to buy them for him, then I’ll tell him Daphne will be outraged at his choice of footwear until he lets me buy him shoes. She probably would be outraged. Not at the fact that he’s wearing trainers, but that he doesn’t own anything _but_ those tattered trainers.

Simon eventually stops bouncing off the walls and settles down. It’s almost like he sobers up, because he’s studying me with a serious expression.

“Something bothering you, Snow?”

He scrunches up his nose at me. The similarities between Simon and a young child are plentiful, but not surprising.

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

I sip my coffee. Twice.

“Well I have to be honest; this isn’t going to be a pleasant experience for either of us.”

He quirks his head at me, confused. I sigh.

“There’s a high chance my father isn’t going to take the idea of us dating well. He won’t kick you out or anything, but I doubt he’s going to be a very warm host.”

“…Does he not know I’m coming?”

I sip my coffee and try to maintain some of my sanity.

“No, why?”

He looks scared. I wish I could tell him everything was going to be smooth and fine, but that’s not something I can promise him. It’s better to be overly prepared than to be surprised.

“Baz! You didn’t tell your parents you’re bringing me?”

“No, Snow. It wasn’t necessary.”

He looks really worried now.

“But shouldn’t you give them time to… I don’t know… prep the couch or something?”

I nearly spit out my coffee at that.

“Prep the couch?” I say rather indignantly, “Snow you’ll be getting one of the guest rooms.”

Under my breath I mumble to myself some undignified nonsense along the lines of “Prep the couch indeed… Aleister Crowley… the _couch_!”

“I get my own room?”

“You get a bedroom, bathroom, and a lounge area.”

He looked down at the table between us in the booth, and then out the window.

“I’ve never had my own room before.” He said softly.

I love him. I love him so much it hurts not to show it. I wish I could give him the world.

“It’s not as nice as it’s cracked up to be.” I say, my tone softer than I usually allow it to be.

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the train ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo! So, what do you all think? 
> 
> I'm having a lot of fun writing this fic, sorry the plot progression is so slow, but I have a lot of details I need to include for the build up! ;)
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and I hope you're enjoying it! 
> 
> P.S. Have a great day! <3 <3 :)))))
> 
> (Does anyone know what happened to Simon's pot of leprechaun gold?? I swear it was mentioned once in Carry On and then never again...)


	4. Simon Snow Likes Lists

**Simon**

Pitch Manor is gigantic.

I’ve never seen a house this big. It must be as large as all of Mummer’s House, if not larger. And unlike Mummer’s it isn’t just rows and rows of bedrooms. Okay, there are a _lot_ of bedrooms, actually, but there are so many other rooms too.

There’s a music room with countless instruments, a dining room nearly the size of the dining hall at Watford, several fancy parlors and living rooms, and a library that I’m positive is bigger than the one at Watford. 

It also looks like a bloody haunted house. Which, despite his vampirism, doesn’t suit Baz. The grand rooms and fancy interiors suit him perfectly, but it’s so… dark. And cold. Not temperature cold, but emotionally cold.

Sure, Baz is cold to me, why wouldn’t he be, he wants to kill me. But he isn’t a cold person. If you know him as well as I do, you see that. You see it when he plays violin, or when he gets into an academic argument with Penny, or when he’s with Dev and Niall.

But… you don’t see it with me. And normally that wouldn’t bother me, but today that hurts.

I don’t like that it hurts. I try to think of reasons why I hate Baz. I make a list:

  1. ~~He hates the Mage~~



No, I can’t hate him because of that. Penny doesn’t like the Mage, and I don’t hate her for it.

  1. ~~He wants to kill me~~



That is true. Baz wants to kill me. But I don’t think I _hate_ him for it. I just don’t want him to kill me, is all. I don’t hate him for that, I just wish it wasn’t true.

  1. ~~He’s a vampire~~



That’s non-negotiable. It’s a fact. But… the more I think about it, the more I think I hate that he _is_ a vampire, not that I hate him _because_ he’s a vampire.

  1. He hates me.



Yeah. That’s a reason. A stupid reason, but it’s a reason.

There has to be something else. I must be missing something.

Why can’t I remember why I’m supposed to hate him?

**Baz**

Simon Snow is plotting.

That isn’t something I ever thought I would say. Ironic, how much the roles have reversed.

He’s been behaving suspiciously all day.

I get the feeling like he’s staring at me. I glance at him. He is.

What are you up to, Simon?

**Simon**

Baz is acting weird.

No, Baz is acting _nice_. Which, for Baz, is acting weird.

Normally I would think he was plotting, but for once I don’t think he is.

I know he isn’t, because he’s too visibly on edge. When he plots he gets eerily calm. He’s too stressed right now.

Baz’s housekeeper Vera picked us up at the train station. She seemed quite pleasant, but she did make a remark or two about how thin Baz is. That struck me as odd.

Surely the Grimm’s housekeeper would have known how thin Baz was when he reappeared at school a few weeks ago? Unless she didn’t know where he was either… That’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t she know? Unless Baz’s parents were hiding it from her.

I went crazy when Baz was missing. I thought about him constantly. Maybe I’m not used to him being back, because my brain still thinks about him constantly.

And here we are, in Pitch Manor together. Luckily, Baz’s parents are out for the afternoon, picking up Baz’s siblings from their respective schools.

Baz is leads me down a long hall upstairs, before stopping at one of the many doors.

“This is your room.”

He opens the door and I step into the room.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me. Make a left at the end of this hall, and then a right before you reach the staircase. It’s three doors down from there.”

I almost laugh.

“Baz, you and I both know I’ll never remember that.”

He smirks tepidly and steps back into the hallway.

“Unpack your things and I’ll be back in half an hour. Then we’re going to get you new… well, everything.”

I ignore his insult and he leaves, closing the door behind him.

I try to get comfortable, but I feel like I’m being watched.

Something just moved in my peripheral vision.

There it was again!

Something is in here, and I don’t want to find out what.

I grab my bag, thank magic I didn’t unpack, and all but run out of the room.

**Baz**

I walk back down the hall to the room Simon’s staying in and knock on the door.

“Time to go, Snow.”

He doesn’t answer. I knock again.

Nothing.

I put my ear to the door. The shower isn’t running. I turn the knob, and to my surprise, it opens.

Simon is nowhere to be found.

Merlin and Morgana, as if I needed another complication to this day.

The notion that the Humdrum could have abducted him comes to me and my stomach lurches with panic. But the dry magic-sucking feeling is nowhere to be found.

Something rustles in the corner.

Ah. The wraiths.

Figures.

I walk from room to room, peeking inside, looking for Simon. I find him sitting sprawled on the floor of one of the hallways.

“Ah. There you are, Snow. Fleeing the scene so soon?” I smirk, but I’m relieved to find him alone and in one piece.

His eyes snap to mine.

“I am NOT sleeping in that room. It’s haunted.”

I roll my eyes but offer him my hand to help him to his feet, which he surprisingly accepts.

I pull my hand away as soon as he’s up. We may be fake boyfriends for the foreseeable future, but Merlin, I’m not quite masochistic enough to let my fingers linger in his.

**Simon**

Baz pulled his hand out of mine as quickly as he had last night. So it _does_ hurt for him to touch me! I knew it. I wonder if it’s because I’m wearing my cross or if that’s how it works with everyone…

I hope, for Baz’s sake, of course, that it’s just because of my cross. He deserves to have a real relationship, with whatever bloke he fancies, and I’m sure not being able to touch them would be awful.

He doesn’t exactly smile at me, but the corners of his mouth perk up a little.

“The whole house is haunted, Snow.”

I don’t think he’s joking.

He turns and starts walking in the other direction.

“You can sleep in my room. I’ve a spare couch. Just like you’d planned!”

I chuckle softly.

I like Baz like this. He’s been nice. I’ve actually _enjoyed_ his company.

Maybe he doesn’t hate me as much as I thought he did. I know I don’t.

I wish we could always be like this.

And I can’t seem to find a reason why we couldn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo! Thank you for reading, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! There's more coming soon! <3 <3 :)))


	5. The Jean-ius of Basilton Pitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Now number fiiiive"
> 
> "I never wanna hear you saaaaaay"

**Simon**

Baz and I walk to the garage, or the carriage house as he called it. Posh prick. He walks up to a black jaguar and opens the passenger-side door for me.

I don’t even realize my mouth is hanging open until Baz reaches over and pushes my chin up with one finger. Which makes me blush furiously. But once again, he pulls away extremely quickly once his skin makes contact with mine.

“I know it’s impressive, Snow, but do try to hide how star-struck I make you.” He punctuates the tease with a wink. Prick.

Blushing even harder than before, I slip into my seat, “Shut up, Baz.”

Why am I blushing? I’m embarrassed. Why am I embarrassed? What is happening?

I decide not to think about it.

**Baz**

Snow has turned a lovely shade of crimson. I’m enjoying myself.

He’s blushing so hard he looks like he might spontaneously combust. His magic is ever so faintly smoking up the car, like it does when he’s flustered by something, so I lay off him.

I turn on the radio and a few minutes later we’re tearing down the freeway and screaming along to Highway to Hell.

We eventually arrive at our destination, and I hop out and open Snow’s car door for him.

I offer my hand to help him out, and he grabs it, pulling himself up, and dangerously close to my face before giving me a mischievous grin. I can’t help but notice how quickly he snatched his hand away from mine, not that I’m surprised.

“What are you plotting, Pitch?”

“My latest plan for your demise, of course.”

Joking about this sort of thing is new territory, but there’s a sparkle in Snow’s eye as he tries to smirk (and fails).

“Oh? And what would that be?”

I pretend to sneer at him and hiss, “Death by shopping.”

He all but throws his head back and laughs.

We step back and I close the car door before offering my arm to him. He looks at it, before asking, “What?”

I nudge him with my elbow and mumble through an overly-toothy stage smile, “Fake boyfriends, Snow. Remember?”

“Oh! Yes, right. Of course.” He stammers and links his arm in mine.

I would have taken this opportunity to hold his hand, but it’s positively freezing out, and he doesn’t seem too open to skin on skin contact with a creature of darkness.

Thank the Cauldron I snuck out to quickly feed before we left, otherwise having Simon pressed this close to me would be driving me even more insane than it already is.

**Simon**

Baz is a bloody liar. He said he wouldn’t buy me anything expensive. So far everything he’s bought must have been very pricey, because he wouldn’t even let me see the receipts.

And Baz wasn’t kidding when he said “death by shopping”.

Luckily, he’s also shopping for himself, otherwise I’d feel even guiltier. He makes me try everything on and show him before buying it. He also picks everything out.

So far everything he’s picked out has actually fit nicely. I decided if he got to judge all my clothes then I should get to pick some out for him that I get to judge. It’s only fair.

He protests, at first, but he’s not one to turn down an opportunity to show off how fit he looks in bloody _everything_.

Baz wasn’t lying when he said he was buying me new everything. He picked out trousers, jumpers, dress shirts, dress shoes, _socks_ , a bloody _suit_ , even new jeans that he grabbed away from me when I tried to peek at the price tag. All of them fit. He bought all of them.

So, when it was his turn to try things on, I was careful with my selections. I wanted to see him try things I’ve never seen him wear. There has to be something he doesn’t look bloody perfect in, and I’m determined to find it.

**Baz**

First, Simon dragged me into a comic store and picked out a black Pink Floyd shirt and some socks with little bats printed all over them. I refused to buy the socks, but when he wasn’t looking, I paid for both and stuffed them into one of the many bags I was holding.

Then he dragged him back to the store where I bought him jeans, and picked out blue jeans, blue ripped jeans, black ripped jeans, and white jeans. I refused to try any of them on except for the blue jeans.

I tried them on and look in the mirror. They look good, but I’m pretty sure I already own this exact pair.

I pull back the dressing room curtain.

“Snow, I already own these exact jeans.”

Simon’s face turns scarlet as he looks me up and down.

“Turn around,” his voice is hoarse. I slowly turn around.

Simon Snow is now staring at my arse.

He curses under his breath, and for once I’m glad for my vampire senses. I turn around to face him again and he’s digging through the bags. He throws the Pink Floyd shirt at me and it lands over my head, covering my face, thank the Cauldron, because I’m now blushing as hard as I can, with the limited blood in my system. I could have caught it, but I didn’t care to.

“Try these on together.” He’s got some nerve ordering me around, but I comply.

I lift the shirt off my face and close the curtain again. My hair is messed up, but I run my fingers through it and pull the tee shirt on.

When I pull back the curtain again, Snow tugs on his curls and bites his lip.

“Of course you look bloody fit in casual clothes,” he scowls.

I might pass out.

“Surprised?” I raise my eyebrow and smirk, hopefully looking more composed than I feel.

Simon Snow just stared at my arse and called me fit.

**Simon**

Fuck. Baz looks fucking incredible.

_Of course_ he does. He’s _Baz_.

Those jeans are driving me insane. These clothes seem like they were made for him. His hair is loose and falling in his face, just the way I like it. I want to slide my hands in it and pull him flush against me. He’s so hot, it’s infuriating.

Wait, _WHAT_?!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no. This isn’t happening. No… no.

I am not attracted to Baz.

I am _not_ attracted to Basilton Grimm-fucking-Pitch.

But he’s blushing and looking at me in a way I’ve never seen before. His lips are slightly parted and I’m trying to burn the way he looks right now into my brain so I can remember it later. I want to push him up against the dressing room wall and kiss him senseless.

Wait, no. No. No.

Shit.

That isn’t very straight.

Maybe I _am_ attracted to Baz.

Fuck.

How long have I not noticed that?

Merlin and Morgana, I am completely and utterly fucked.

**Baz**

Simon blushes harder and shifts awkward.

“You don’t have to buy them- I mean if you don’t want to! It’s not that you shouldn’t buy them- you should, it’s just you’re spending so much money and I don’t want you to-“

“Snow,” I interrupt firmly. “I’m going to buy them.”

He beams at me.

“Okay.”

I definitely own these already. But if Simon Snow thinks I look fit in these jeans then another pair can’t hurt.

I’ve never worn jeans at Watford, but now? Who knows? I don’t. Simon Snow just checked me out and called me fit, anything is possible.

Snow’s stomach growls loudly as I’m paying. We’d been so busy shopping we’d forgotten to eat lunch.

He hooks his arm in mine as we head to the car. I have a swarm of butterflies in my stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT I WANT IT THAAAAAT WAY!  
> (I hope someone got that reference 😭)
> 
> Helloooo esteemed friends and enemies! How are you doing today? I hope you're doing well!
> 
> It's very cliche, I know, but what's a Snowbaz fic without Baz's jeans causing Simon's bisexual awakening? 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I really appreciate all of you and I hope you're enjoying it! I'll be back with another update soon!! Love you all!! <3 <3 :))


	6. An Adult Version of Macaroni and Cheese

**Baz**

I pull Snow into a small Italian restaurant and we sit on opposite sides of a small booth, our knees bumping each other.

He studies the menu like it’s suspicious. He’s furrowed his brow and he’s biting his lip and tugging on his curls. My heart is doing backflips thinking about what he said in the dressing room.

He thinks I’m fit. “Bloody fit”, he’d said.

I shouldn’t be getting so worked up over that. We’re still enemies. He still hates me. I keep reminding myself of who we are, and what we’re actually doing.

Fake dating isn’t romantic.

Maybe I shouldn’t have chosen an Italian restaurant.

“Hey, Baz?”

“Yes?”

“What is this?” He points to something on the menu.

“Fettuccini Alfredo? It’s pasta with a crème béchamel sauce.”

When he looks at me even more confused than before I sigh, “It’s like an adult version of Macaroni and Cheese.”

“Okay. Thanks.” He says, rather indifferently.

Something must really be bothering Simon. He always gets excited about food.

I hope I haven’t messed this up somehow.

The waitress comes to take our order, Simon gets the fettuccini, I order and promptly forget what I got. A pasta dish, I think. Doesn’t matter. I sip on my water.

Simon’s stressed. His magic is leaking.

“Are you feeling alright, Snow?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m… fine.” He’s very obviously not fine, but I don’t expect him to say anything more.

He smiles weakly at me, like it hurts him to.

“How about you?”

“I’m lovely.” I say somewhat sarcastically, even though it’s secretly the truth.

He nods absentmindedly. I hate this. Normally I’d accept the silence gladly, but I don’t want Snow to blow the roof off this restaurant.

“Do you want to play a game?”

“A game?”

I nod towards the kitchen.

“While we wait for our food.”

He shifts in his seat, rearranging his legs so they’re further away from mine.

He shrugs, “Alright. What kind of game?”

I didn’t really expect to get this far.

“Whatever kind you’d like.” I’d give him the world if he asked.

He clears his throat, deep in thought. Strange, for him.

“How about a question game? We take turns answering questions and when one of us refuses to answer the game ends.”

That is the second-worst idea Snow has had in the past two days. Unimpressive statement, I know, but he is full of truly awful ideas.

My silence puts him even further on edge, his magic is coming off him in waves now.

“Okay. You go first.”

I’m a fool for agreeing to this. A colossal fool.

**Simon**

“Alright.” I think about what to ask him.

Would it be rude to ask if he can touch other people? Probably. It’s probably a touchy subject.

Pun intended.

I laugh softly to myself at that and Baz looks at me like I’ve gone insane.

“Are you nervous for tonight?”

“With your table manners? Absolutely.” He slowly sips from his water. “My turn, now.”

I nod, nervous for his question.

“Why do you like the Mage so much?”

I shrug.

“I don’t know. I think he’s right about a lot of important stuff.”

Baz laughs harshly, “He’s a wannabe dictator!”

“He is _not_. He wants all mages to have equal opportunity for a good education in Magic!”

Baz rolls his eyes, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that even if the Mage has generally good intentions, his actions cancel them out.”

“You just hate him because you’re a Pitch.” I spit the words at him like it’s an insult.

“You’re right, Snow. I hate him because I’m a Pitch. Because he usurps the intellectual integrity of my mother’s school to serve his political purposes. Because him and his henchmen raid my family’s homes and try to round us up like cattle. And because he treats you like a weapon instead of a fucking person”, he snarls back at me.

“Raids? Baz what are you talking about?” I lower my voice to try to curb our anger at one another.

“As if you don’t know.” He won’t look at me. I should have known this game was a bad idea.

“Look… I’m sorry for getting angry, but I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You really don’t know?” He raised his brow at me. Merlin, he’s good at that. He’s good at everything. They call him the Pitch Prodigy for a reason.

I shake my head.

“The Mage has been raiding the houses of members of the Old Families.”

“What? Since when?”

He leaned forward tensely.

“For _years_ , Snow.”

I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think the Mage would do that.

“I’m sorry, Baz. I didn’t know.”

He turns his head away from me and glares out the window.

“You don’t know a lot of things.” He mumbles, resting his face in his hand.

“I know.” I agree softly.

A minute or two goes by before I summon the strength to try again.

“My turn.”

He turns to me, confused.

“What?”

“It’s my turn to ask a question.”

He groans and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Why do you like to play the violin so much?”

He slowly lifts his face to meet my gaze. He’s just looking at me, not saying anything. Watching me. For once, I don’t mind him watching me.

I watch him all the time, it seems. Although I guess I never really stopped to think about _why_.

I used to think it was hatred. I was wrong.

I study his face more intensely than I’ve ever studied for any test. Because the information you study for a test isn’t something I want to retain past the day of the exam. Baz’s face is something I never want to forget.

His eyes are grey. Not a silver grey, closer to a storm grey, like the color of clouds just before a terrible thunderstorm.

His nose is slightly crooked, but that was my doing. I’ve got mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, it’s a mark I’ve left forever. It’s a permanent reminder of me, but it’s a permanent reminder of the damage I’ve done.

His face is still perfect, despite it.

He inhales deeply, “I like it because it clears my head. It’s easier to focus while I’m playing. It’s not just playing the violin, it’s creating music. It’d be easier to explain if you played an instrument.” He sighs.

He’s so poetic, it amazes me. That he can find such perfect words and put them in a perfect order, it’s something I could never do.

“I’ve always wanted to. Play an instrument, I mean.”

“It’s never too late to learn.”

I shrug.

“I’d probably be awful at it.”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Fuck off, Baz”, I scowl.

“Well, everyone is when they first start.”

“Bet you weren’t.”

He scoffs, “Of course I was. I was four. Four-year-olds aren’t good at anything.”

I still can’t picture Baz being anything but wonderful at whatever he does. I smile when I think about a tiny four-year-old Baz playing a violin. He would be so small, and I’m sure the violin was too big for him.

“You know…” I start, “I think I was wrong about you.”

“I knew you’d come to your senses about the vampire thing eventually”, He smirks.

“What? No! I know _that_ for a _fact_. I meant I think I was wrong about hating you all these years.”

He screws up his face at me like I said something irrational.

“One day of being fake boyfriends and you think the whole world’s turned upside down.”

It’s more like it’s turned right-side-up for the first time in my life.

It feels so right, to have him by my side, joking and making witty banter.

But it isn’t real. I could never have _this_ for real. I could never have _him_.

But I ignore the pain, trying my hardest to swallow my feelings, and carry on.

Because what else can I do? Baz would never feel the same towards me, even if I did manage to tell him, somehow.

I wonder what his type is. Probably posh and perfect like himself. Someone smart, from a respected family. Not a messed up orphan who kills his problems with a sword.

Not me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo everyone!! Wow that chapter had a lot of different versions written and re-written!
> 
> Thank you all so so much for the kudos and comments! I really enjoy getting comments from you guys, it makes my day! :))
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and I hope you're enjoying it! :))
> 
> I'll be back with another update soon!! <3 <3


	7. Such a fucking troglodyte

**Baz**

By the time we get back to my house, Simon seems to have perked up a bit.

We haul the shopping bags up to my room. There’s so many of them that even with the two of us we have to make two trips back and forth from the car.

Snow flops down on the couch in my bedroom and mumbling that he’s going to take a nap before dinner, so I decide to take a shower. No sooner had I started lathering up my hair then I hear Simon scream. I throw back the curtain and hurriedly slip into a bath robe, rushing out the bathroom, my hair still filled with soap suds.

I rush in to find my sister Mordelia standing over a terrified Simon Snow.

“Mordelia!” I scold, “What have I told you about coming into my bedroom without permission?”

She smiles at me almost wickedly.

“Why is the Mage’s Heir in your bedroom?”

Simon looks at me frightened, “She knows who I am?”

“Who doesn’t?” I deadpan.

Mordelia starts jumping up and down with excitement.

“Is he your boyfriend?” She’s positively giddy.

“I’m n-”

“Yes Mordie, he’s my boyfriend”, I cut Snow off before he finishes his mistake, shooting him a withering glare, “Now, go. I have to finish showering, and you have to practice your piano exercises, I’m sure.”

She sneers at me (she’s getting quite good at that- but she did learn from the best) and sulks off towards the music room.

Simon is still laying on the couch wide-eyed and clutching his chest.

“Is your whole family planning on scaring me half to death at some point, or is that just your sister’s thing?”

“My apologies, Snow. My siblings are bound to be very curious- I’ve never brought a boy home before.”

He scoffs at me.

“None of your boyfriends ever care for haunted mansions?”

I raise my eyebrow at him.

“I don’t do boyfriends.”

“What? Why not?”

I straighten my posture and steadily hold my composure.

“Pitches don’t settle for anything less than exactly what they want.”

I realize how ridiculous this looks and sounds, seeing that I’m standing in my bedroom in nothing but a bathrobe with my hair full of soap bubbles.

He looks down at the floor, like _he’s_ the one in an embarrassing situation.

“That’s going to make it pretty hard to convince your father that you’re dating me then, huh.”

“As if _that’s_ the issue with this situation.”

He looks up at me, before doubling over with laughter.

“What’s so funny, Snow?”

He walks over to me, before popping one of the bubbles that remained in my hair.

I flinch when he reaches up towards me. He notices and frowns.

I spin on my heel and storm into the bathroom to resume my shower.

I change into my suit- it’s an emerald green. And when Simon Snow comes out of the bathroom in the suit I bought for him, I nearly pass out.

Simon looks stunning in a grey suit.

“Baz, can I use some of your hair gel?”

I pause, there’s no way he actually knows how to use hair gel properly.

“Fine.” I snap and start blow-drying my own hair.

Simon unscrews the hair gel, scoops some out, and proceeds to try and slick back his curls. He freezes when he sees the horrified expression I’m making in the mirror.

“What is it?”

I turn off my hair dryer.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

His hands drop to his sides in exasperation.

“Help me fix it, then.”

“Fine.” I snap at him, and grab the hair gel. “Honestly, Snow, why I even bother…”

I wet my hands and run them through the curls, letting them spring back to their natural curling pattern. Then I take some gel, mix it with more water, and gently ran that through his hair.

“There.” I stood back to admire my work. “Now you’ll have all the curls, but none of the frizzy baby hairs sticking all over the place.”

He looks in the mirror and grins at me. I love him so much.

“Since when did you know how to do curly hair?” He asks, studying his hair in the mirror.

“Since always, my hair used to be curly, and I style Mordelia’s hair for her when we have events to go to.”

He whirls around to face me.

“You have curly hair?!”

“ _Had_. I _had_ curly hair.”

“Why don’t you have it anymore?”

“It straightened itself out as I got older.”

I reach for the hair gel to slick back my own hair.

“You should leave your hair loose; it suits you more.” He says with soft smile before walking out into the bedroom.

I slick my hair back anyway. It’d be far too obvious if I just followed his advice immediately.

**Simon**

I am absolutely terrified to meet Baz’s father. I’m so stressed out that I can’t even tie my tie right.

Baz looks gorgeous. It’s a shame he’s such a stubborn intellect, because he could be wildly successful as a model. The more I look at him the more I realize the depth of my feelings for him.

He walks out of the bathroom, and sees me struggling to tame my tie. Wordlessly he saunters over and takes it from me, tying it into a perfect Windsor knot.

I’ve never wanted to kiss someone more in my life. But I can’t. Because he wouldn’t want that. And because it hurts him to touch me.

And now I have to go downstairs and have dinner with his parents, and pretend that he’s mine.

I take a deep breath. I can do this.

Baz offers me his hand. I freeze.

**Baz**

Simon looks at my hand like he’s surprised.

I clear my throat. This was a bad idea. A terrible, terrible idea.

“Believe me, Snow, I’m as uncomfortable with this arrangement as you are, if not more so. I can’t speak from experience, but I’m pretty sure boyfriends are supposed to hold hands.” I hiss at him.

“Baz… you don’t have to go along with this if it’s too bad, okay? We can find another way around this, y’know?” He’s looking at me softly. I don’t like it. That’s a lie, I love it. But I don’t like how he’s being so _soft_ to me out of nowhere.

He’s been off like that all day, and I’ve had just about enough of it. I can’t handle being his fake boyfriend if he keeps being so soft to me- I’ll go mad.

“Snow, if there was a foreseeable way out of this predicament, I would have taken it already.” I hiss at him.

“Look, you don’t have to hurt yourself for this.” He huffs at me like he’s doing something noble.

“Hurt myself? Snow what the hell are you talking about?”

“I know that it hurts for you to touch me, okay?!”

I can’t believe it. I am actually in shock.

He’s such a fucking troglodyte.

“You’re an absolute moron, Snow. I can touch you just fine.” I hiss at him.

His mouth falls open and I reach over to flick it back closed.

“See? Honestly, Snow, I knew you were dense, but how fucking stupid can you get? I’d say this was a new low, but it’s more like a very familiar low, for you.” I smirk at him.

“Jesus Christ, Baz, I-”

I hold up my hand to silence him. If I wasn’t so nervous about him meeting my father, I would probably be laughing at him.

“Save it, Snow. I don’t care for an explanation,” I sigh and offer him my hand again. “Let’s just… survive dinner.”

He nods grimly and takes my hand, lacing our fingers together as we walk down the hall.

I stop before the staircase and turn to him.

“Remember: only speak to my father when absolutely necessary, be as polite as possible, and for the love of magic, _please_ try to have some table manners.”

He nods, but when I go to walk towards the stairs he doesn’t budge.

“Baz?”

“Yes, Snow?”

“I- I’m sorry about the touch thing.”

I scrunch up my face at him.

“Don’t start apologizing to me, Snow. It’s weird.”

His expression lightens up and he rolls his eyes.

“Right, but having me staying at your house for Christmas while posing as your boyfriend is totally normal.”

I tug on his arm a bit and lead him down the stairs.

“Come on, Snow. Let’s get some food in you.”

He practically drags me down the stairs when I mention the food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii! Oops I meant to post this earlier, but I quite literally just finished writing it.
> 
> All of your comments have been so sweet 🥺 you guys make me smile so much!
> 
> Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy it!


	8. Malcom Grimm deserves a little slack

**Simon**

Malcom Grimm-Pitch is 5’11” with slicked back grey hair, a glare that could probably be used to exterminate weeds, and a gold topped cane. He is also possibly the scariest man currently living.

And the Mage’s number one enemy, or so he’s said.

Malcom strides towards Baz and me, and against every instinct I do not shy away from him.

“Basil, I wasn’t aware we were having company.” His glare is piercing.

I clear my throat and offer my hand for a handshake.

“Hello, sir. I’m Si-”

He firmly shakes my hand but cuts me off, “I’m well aware of who you are, Mr. Snow. Why are you here?”

“Well you see, sir, I-”

“Simon is my boyfriend.” Baz fills in for me, his posture strong as he looks his father in the eye.

Malcom stops and looks both of us up and down, his gaze heavy with scrutiny.

“Excuse me?” He raises one eyebrow- the same eyebrow Baz always raises. So that must be a family thing after all, I’ve always wondered who taught him to do that so well.

Baz lifts our joined hands almost triumphantly.

“Simon and I are dating.”

“Basil, if this is just to prove to me that you’re gay, this isn’t necessary. You’ve made your point; you can drop it now.” Malcom speaks quietly, but his anger is noticeable.

“Father, if you think this is all some practical joke, you’re wrong”, Baz pulls me closer to him without breaking the same harsh eye contact with his father. “Simon and I are in a relationship.”

My heart flutters every time he calls me Simon. The way he says it, like it’s a sacred word, makes me never want to hear anyone but him call me Simon ever again.

“Basil, you must be blind if you think this isn’t one of Davy’s schemes to invade our household!”

Baz opens his mouth to argue, but I interject.

“If I may, sir, the Mage didn’t want me to come here at all. As a matter of fact, he disallowed it. He isn’t in support of Baz and I’s relationship.”

“Mr. Snow, do you really expect me to believe that you haven’t come here due to ulterior motives?” His full attention has turned to me, now.

I take a deep breath, and Baz squeezes my hand.

“No, sir, I suppose not. I can swear it to you, though, with magic, if you’d like?”

He turns his attention back to Baz, speaking slightly more softly, “Basil, do you really trust him?”

Baz holds his head high and steadily answers, “With my life.”

Malcom hesitantly puts his hand on Baz’s shoulder.

“Then… I’ll trust you.” He turns his gaze to me, it’s not as harsh as before, “Do not break my trust, Mr. Snow.”

He turns back towards the dining room and leaves Baz and I still standing by the staircase.

We both breathe a sigh of relief.

**Baz**

That was one of the most stressful two and a half minutes of my life. That was more acceptance than I ever could have hoped to receive from my father. I think I might be a bit in shock.

“Did I do okay?”, Simon asks me hesitantly.

“You did great, Snow. It went better than I could have hoped for.” I want to pick him up and spin him around, but I squeeze his hand instead.

He smiles at me but whispers, “Your dad is terrifying.”

I laugh lightly as we take our seats in the dining room.

Simon doesn’t seem to forget my reminder about table manners, and for once his are somewhere near acceptable. Not entirely, they’re still enough to earn some disdainful looks from my father.

Daphne is very pleased to meet Simon, and tells him as such, which makes him grin and elbow me in the side.

“Babe, you should have brought me to meet your family ages ago.”

He called me “babe”. I know it’s just for show, but the love of my life just called me a pet name for the very first time, and I’m over the moon. Unless you count “posh prick” as a pet name, which I don’t.

I love him so much. I try to hide it, but then remember that I’m not only _allowed_ to show it right now, I’m _supposed_ to.

So, I rest my hand on his knee and let my adoration show on my face.

“And have to share you with all my siblings? I don’t think so, love.”

He smiles at me. Mordelia mimics a gag.

My father shows no reaction whatsoever, which good. He’s not one to hold back his disapproval.

**Simon**

Baz called me “love”. He slipped his hand onto my knee and called me “love”.

I don’t think I’ve ever liked being called _anything_ as much as I like him calling me “love”

Crowley, I’ve got it bad for him.

I try to remind myself that this isn’t real. He isn’t really mine, at all.

But I don’t care. Because I’m at dinner with Baz’s siblings, and stepmother, and even father. And Baz.

And right now, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than by his side.

Baz’s siblings are nice. Mordelia makes excellent conversation. The twins- I don’t remember their names, but they seem nice too. All they’ve done is glance at me and giggle to themselves, but I think that’s good.

Baz’s stepmother, Daphne, is lovely. She asks me all sorts of questions. Luckily, she doesn’t ask about Baz and I’s relationship- I don’t know what I’d tell her.

Eventually, dinner ends and Baz and I go back upstairs.

Baz’s bedroom is insanely gothic-looking. His bed has gargoyles all over it. I feel like they’re watching me.

Baz and I take turns getting ready for bed, before settling down for the night, him in his creepy gargoyle-adorned bed, and me on the couch opposite the foot of his bed.

I close my eyes and sleep deeper than I’ve slept in years.

Today was the most complicated and exhausting day of my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo! How are you? I hope you're well! 
> 
> I gotta say, I really dragged my feet while writing this chapter. I had absolutely no motivation or inspiration but I pushed through my writers block and I think it turned out pretty good! What do you think?
> 
> I'm very glad I did push through because I feel very inspired now- so I'll be a lot more productive with my writing! 
> 
> I try to be modest most of the time- but I really do like this chapter a lot. I think people should give Malcom Grimm some slack- yes he's kind of homophobic, but he does really care about Baz, and all in all I don't really think he's that bad of a character.
> 
> Thank you all so so much for reading!! I hope you're enjoying it!! And thank you for all your comments! They all make me so happy 🥺💕💕


	9. Vampires can hiccup

**Baz**

Despite how well things seemingly went last night, my father is tense at breakfast. The return of Simon’s terrible table manners doesn’t seem to be helping. Every time that boy eats it’s like it’s the first time he’s ever seen food. Even I’m appalled by his manners, and I’ve lived with him for seven years!

When we finally finish eating, I stand and offer Simon my hand. I remember that last night he thought it hurt me to touch him, and almost laugh.

Honestly, he never ceases to surprise me.

My father stands up as we’re leaving the dining room. That cannot be a good sign.

“Basil, I would like to speak with you in my study.” He pointedly stares at Simon and my joined hands. “Alone.”

I nod, but I think I’d rather throw myself out of a second story window than speak to my father in his study right now.

“Go wait for me upstairs, I’ll be back soon.”

Simon squeezes my hand before letting go. He gets a mischievous glint in his eye that instantly opens a pit of fear in my stomach. What is he about to do?

He looks at my father, before quickly leaning over and kissing my cheek.

What.

The.

Fuck.

My brain short circuits and before I can process what just happened, he winks at me and runs up the stairs.

Ah, I see.

Simon kissing my cheek to piss off my father was never something I thought of when I fantasized about him kissing me.

When my father turns and walks towards his study, I gently touch the spot where Simon kissed me.

Merlin, I am far too gay for this.

This was an awful idea. A truly terrible, horrible, awful idea.

**Simon**

I got so excited about getting to kiss Baz on the cheek that I completely forgot where his room is.

I start wandering in the direction that I think it might be, hoping I’ll see a familiar painting or door that will lead me in the right direction, but it’s no use. I am utterly lost.

I try picking different routes starting at the stair case, but each time I end up either back at the staircase, or in front of the library. It must have been about fifteen minutes of wandering around before Baz’s step-mom found me.

“Oh, hello Simon,” She smiled kindly at me. “Are you looking for Baz’s room?”

“Erm, yes. Is it that obvious that I’m lost?” I nervously chuckle.

She pats my shoulder, “Not at all. This house can feel like a maze when you’re first getting used to it.”

Daphne walked me to Baz’s door, and I blush when I realize I walked right past it four or five times. She squeezes my shoulder and smiles at me, “Well, I’ll leave you here. But Simon, don’t hesitate to come to me for anything. If you need something, or if you just want to talk, I’m here for you and Baz both.”

I hug her.

“Thank you, Mrs. Grimm.”

She pulls back and smiles at me again, “Call me Daphne.”

I grin at her, “Thank you, Daphne.”

Daphne pats my cheek once before walking away, and I slip into Baz’s bedroom. He must still be talking to his father in his study, so I sit on the couch and wait for him to come back.

I end up staring at his creepy bed and trying to count the number of gargoyles. I counted 38 of them when Baz walks into the room, closing the door behind him. He leans his back against the door, and slowly slides down until he’s sitting on the floor with his face in his hands.

I slowly stand up from the couch and sit on the floor next to him.

“Hey…”

“Shut it, Snow. Of all the people on this planet who I’d want to talk to right now, you are the last one.” He snaps, but his voice is quivering, and I think he’s crying.

I don’t say anything, but I reach an arm around him and he lets loose a sob.

It’s like I knocked loose the keystone of a dam, and all everything came crashing down all at once. I pull him closer to me, so his face is buried in my shirt, and he lets me. After the first few sobs, he manages to pull himself together a bit. He pulls back a bit, so he’s leaning against me while looking at his shaking hands.

“I just don’t understand.”

“What?”

“I don’t get it,” he mumbles defeatedly. “My own father has an easier time accepting that I’m a bloodsucking monster than accepting that I’m gay.”

He curls his shaking hands into fists and tries to bite his lip to keep from crying, but he collapses into me anyway. He falls against my chest, and suddenly recoils, which makes me remember my cross. I undo the clasp and toss it to the side.

“He is trying. I know he’s trying, but it’s just so bloody _hard_ sometimes,” Baz starts crying again. “He says he loves me and he says he knows that you don’t get to choose who you love, but I just- I never wanted this! I never wanted to give them another reason to be disappointed in me, I-” The rest of Baz’s sentence is cut off by a sob, and he curls into my chest.

He seems so _small_ like this.

Baz has always been almost larger than life. So _above_ everything that was happening around him. He was like an untouchable stone statue.

But he isn’t. He’s just a boy.

A scared boy, who lost his mum, and whose father is still learning to accept him. He’s trying. As angry as it makes me that he can’t just adapt for Baz’s sake, I know Malcom Grimm is trying. But Baz’s father can’t see that the longer it takes him, the more it hurts Baz. He can’t see that his own son is so broken that he’s breaking down in the arms of someone he _hates_.

And maybe it isn’t any different to Baz, because he hates me, but-

…But…

…At least he’s breaking down in the arms of someone who loves _him_.

Because I do.

I love him.

I think I might have always loved him, at least a little. I was just too busy trying not to think about things to notice. I look down and feel a tear slip from my own eyes.

I love him for who he is.

For the posh, bossy, smart, witty, wonderful boy he is. For the boy who plays the violin like no one I’ve ever heard before. For the boy who studies and works hard at school, not so he can be better than everyone else, but so that he can be someone who would make his mother proud. For the boy who acts like no one can hurt him, when he’s secretly so _fragile_.

Crowley, how could I _not_ love him for who he is?

I hug him tightly with my left arm, my right arm running through his hair.

We stay like that for a long time.

Eventually Baz seems to just run out of energy. His sobs turn to gentle hitches in his breath, and the tears stop falling. He hiccups. Twice. Three times. A whole bunch of times.

It never occurred to me that vampires could hiccup. I mean, there’s no reason why they _wouldn’t_. I just never thought about it before.

So here I am. Sitting on the floor of a haunted mansion, holding onto a hiccupping vampire, who happens to be my sworn nemesis, who I also happen to be in love with.

Of all the ways I thought Christmas holiday would go, I have to admit, this wasn’t something I saw coming.

Baz pulls out of my arms and stands up like he wasn’t just sobbing and blowing his nose into my shirt.

“I’m going to make some coffee.”

I frown, “It’s a bit late for coffee. If you drink that now, you’ll be up all night.”

He glares at the floor like it just called him by his first name.

“What’s the difference? My life is as good as over now, anyway.”

“Baz”, I start softly, “Why would you say that? Sure, your father hasn’t come around yet, but I’m sure he will! Besides-”

“I just confessed to being something any mage would kill without hesitation, Snow. All you need is to spread the word to your _mentor_ , and he’ll have me killed before the day’s out.”

I can’t believe he thinks so low of me. Actually, I can. I’ve got a pretty awful track record.

“No, he won’t-”

“Yes, he _will_ , Snow!”

I cover his mouth with my hand to stop him from talking.

“You didn’t let me finish. The Mage isn’t going to kill you, because I’m not going to tell him. I’m not going to tell anyone.”

I take my hand off of his mouth, because he looks like he’s about to strangle me.

“Snow, you’ve told _everyone_ I was a vampire _already_.”

I shrug.

“None of them ever believed me anyway.”

He narrows his eyes at me.

“Why are you doing this?”

I shrug.

“Have you ever bitten anyone?”

“No. I’m not a murderer.”

I shrug again.

“So, then there’s no point. You aren’t dangerous.”

He shakes his head but he takes his wand out and casts a **_Clean as a Whistle_** on my shirt

I don’t put my cross back on.

**Baz**

After that session of crying into Simon Snow’s shirt I am exhausted.

“You look like shit”, Simon notes.

“And you look like you just walked off a photo shoot- give me a break, Snow.”

“I- sorry.”

I sit down on my bed.

“Don’t apologize. It’s weird.”

He sits down next to me and says softly, “It doesn’t have to be.”

I can’t do this anymore. I’m trying, okay? _Merlin_ , I’m trying.

But too much is too much. And Simon Snow has put me through _too much_ in the past three days.

“I’m done with you for now,” I say. “I feel as if I’ve been struck by lightning twice in the past three days, and now I’m just done.”

He screws up his face at me.

“You’ve said that same exact thing before.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have! Or at least the part about lightning.”

I lightly shove him towards the couch.

“I’m taking a nap. I recommend you do the same. It’s better to have energy for later.”

He looks surprised.

“Later? Baz, what’s later?”

“Later,” I drawl. “We have our first date.”

His jaw falls open, and I would reach over to flick it closed again, but I really am done with him for now.

I drift into a restless post-breakdown sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys all your comments make me so happy! 🥺😭 You're all so sweet!!
> 
> Wooooooooo this chapter was a bit more intense than I usually write. I hope you guys enjoyed it!
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and I'll see you all next time!! <3 <3 :))))


	10. A Nightmare on the Ice

**Baz**

“Baz. Baz. Baz. Wake up. Baz. Baz. Baz.”

I jolt awake when something pokes me in the face. Simon Snow is kneeling next to my bed, repeatedly poking my cheek with his finger.

I jump back. I can’t believe the nerve of that bastard. He’s lucky I’m head over heels for him, otherwise I definitely would have killed him by now.

“Crowley, Snow! Can’t you not annoy me for few minutes? I know your attention span is the width of a microbe, but honestly!” I hiss, adding more venom than necessary.

“It’s been a lot of minutes. Two hours, actually.” He sounds like he’s scolding me or something.

“And?” I glare at him.

“And you said we were going somewhere,” he huffs and crosses his arms. “I know you’re perfectly happy to stay shut in this haunted house for the rest of break, but I don’t fancy that idea as much as you do.”

“You’re insufferable,” I huff, but I put my shoes on, carefully ignoring how he’s beaming at me like the sun itself.

The way he’s been acting is making me uneasy. I know I’m being nicer to him, but not nice enough to warrant this amount of change in his behavior. It’s not that I don’t enjoy it, I fucking love it. I love _him_. But it’s a bit much, really.

It feels like he’s up to something. Plotting. _Merlin_ , how the tables have turned!

I slip into my coat, buttoning it up all the way and throwing on a scarf and gloves. I hand him his coat and a spare scarf, and he looks at me like I just did something incredible. _Aleister Crowley_ , he’s making me nervous.

Who am I kidding? I’m enjoying the positive attention. I just… I don’t think it will last. I _know_ it won’t.

He’s still the Chosen One, the Mage’s most important player. And I’m still one of the most important players for the Old Families. I’ve known how this would end since day one.

Screw the Mage. Screw the Old Families. Screw everyone and everything that’s stopping me from enjoying what could be the only positive interactions I’ll ever have with Simon.

Usually I like to think ahead. I like to know what’s coming, so I can prepare myself. I decide that maybe, just this once, I’ll stop overanalyzing everything.

I’m about to go on a wonderfully cliché fake date with Simon Snow. Nothing is going to ruin this for me.

**Simon**

I should have known this date would be completely over the top. _Fake_ date. I have to keep reminding myself it’s fake.

It _feels_ real to me, but I know that’s just my wishful thinking getting the better of me.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. This _fake_ date is totally over the top. First, he made us take the jaguar again. I like taking the jaguar, but I feel a bit stupid riding in it. He may have dressed me up in posh clothes and stuffed me in his posh car, but I’m still _me_. I feel like a rescue dog in a designer sweater, it just seems _wrong_ on me.

Baz keeps doing things that make my heart ache. To be fair, it doesn’t take much for him to do that, though.

He’s opening doors for me, closing doors for me, _holding doors_ for me.

Okay, I guess it’s just the door thing. But it’s _progress_.

“Baz, where are we going?” I ask, because it’s taking us bloody forever to walk there from the car.

He just smiles softly and hums.

That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. I’ve been trying not to seem so desperate, but you know what? Let me seem desperate. I _am_ desperate.

I slip my hand in his and lace our fingers together. His breath hitches.

I was not expecting that.

That doesn’t make any sense.

Actually, now that I step back and think about it, instead of trying to ignore the topic entirely, _none_ of this makes any sense.

Baz starts talking to me, but I’m not listening. My mind is racing at a thousand kilometers a minute.

Baz Pitch doesn’t do _anything_ if he doesn’t want to. I’ve known that since I’ve met the prick.

So, _why_ -

…Either I’m a bloody genius, or a sodding idiot.

Maybe both.

Definitely both.

I’m going to make a list of everything I’m suddenly questioning.

  1. My sexuality



Okay, so if I’m in love with a bloke, I think I’m probably not completely straight. Then again, it is _Baz_. Who wouldn’t fall in love with him?

…Right. Definitely not straight.

  1. Why I haven’t been zapped by the **_Englishman’s Word is His Bond_** that Baz cast on me



I don’t know exactly what happens when you break an **_Englishman’s Word is His Bond_** , but Penny’s told me you get shocked in the arm until the caster frees you from the bond. That hasn’t happened to me yet, even though it _should_ have.

I swore to follow all of Baz’s rules. Rule #1 was that I wasn’t allowed to fall in love with him. I have very clearly broken Rule #1.

Although… I promised not to _fall_ in love with him. That means the rule wouldn’t work if I was _already_ in love with him.

Merlin, that’s the worst “good news” I’ve heard in my life.

  1. Why is Baz doing all this



“Snow, are you even listening to me?” He raises his eyebrow the way he does when he’s annoyed.

“No, I’m really sorry. I spaced out,” I frown sheepishly.

“Don’t…”, he starts but trails off and frowns at me. “You don’t need to apologize.”

I think… maybe I should try something. Just an experiment, to see how he reacts.

“But I-” I start, hoping he’ll do what I think he will, because I don’t actually have anything to say.

Sure enough he gently reaches over and pushes my jaw closed with one finger. This time, his touch lingers.

He takes in a slightly shaky breath after pulling away, meaning he wasn’t breathing when he did it.

Could he...?

No…

But I know what I saw. And maybe… just _maybe_ , there might be a slight chance he’s not entirely not-attracted to me.

I’m hopeful. I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it.

And almost as if it was timed with my realization, we arrive at our destination.

An ice skating rink.

**Baz**

I know exactly what I’m doing. I’ve watched enough romcoms to know that ice skating is romantic enough to qualify as a romantic date, without being too obvious that you’re utilizing it as such.

I should have realized that Simon Snow’s two left feet would make it significantly less romantic. He’s a nightmare on the ice. It’s painfully endearing.

After watching him struggle for a few minutes, I glide over to him and offer him my hand. He smiled at me and accepted it. I’m really not used to this. Snow acts like it’s the easiest thing in the world, like it’s _nothing_. I wish I could be that nonchalant about it, but to me it’s _everything_. 

Surprisingly enough, he seems to be a fast learner. Not that he’s doing it on his own, because he hasn’t let go of me since I offered him my hand. I still make little snide remarks at him. That will never change.

This is fun. I’m letting myself have fun with him.

He nudges my shoulder and I turn a little bit to face him. That was a mistake.

He somehow loses his balance, and topples over.

Thank the Cauldron for my heightened senses and agility, because as completely cliché as this day has already been, I did _not_ need to fall on top of him.

I laugh at him. His brow furrows and he bites his lip in the way he does when he’s trying not to smile. I offer him my hand to help him up, still laughing.

And then he gets that _look_. And before I can react, he grabs my arm and yanks me down on top of him.

**Simon**

For a second think I may have miscalculated a bit, because Baz stops laughing when I pull him on top of me. He scowls lightly.

“Clumsy numpty,” he hisses at me.

“Posh prick,” I hiss back.

He doesn’t say anything. Our faces are really close. I could kiss him. I want to kiss him.

I don’t think that would be a good idea, though. Maybe I should take Baz’s advice for once, and not be so impulsive.

**Baz**

I must be dreaming. I’m either dreaming, dead, or insane. Maybe all three.

But Simon Snow is staring at my lips with a look on his face I’ve never seen before.

I think…

No.

No, that’s absolutely mental.

I carefully extract myself from this precarious position. I was about to do something I would certainly regret.

Snow stands up, brushes himself off, and skates off the rink. Our skating session is practically over, anyway. I watch him go and then I realize.

Snow cannot skate that well. He’s been clinging to my arm this entire time. And yet, there he goes, across the rink and off the ice.

What the fuck just happened?

**Simon**

I make it all the way off the ice before I turn and see Baz’s face.

Fuck. I got caught up in the moment and forgot I was pretending not to know how to skate.

The truth is I’ve known how to skate for years. Agatha made me learn a few Christmases ago. I’m not great, I always start off shakily, but I’m a good deal better than I pretended to be.

And now Baz knows that I pretended not to know how to skate, just so I could hang onto him.

I don’t look at him, but he’s staring right at me.

I should have never let myself take things this far. That was a mistake. I’m sure he suspects that I’m up to something. I guess I technically am.

Looks like I was the one caught plotting this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHAAAAAAAT??? PLOT TWIST!!! (haha what is wrong with me)
> 
> Hellooooo everyone! I just wanna say thank you again for all the sweet comments and kudos! It make this all the more fun to write, knowing you guys are looking forward to my updates.
> 
> I'm so tired it's insane. But I'm gonna try to keep writing, and hopefully I'll get more done soon!
> 
> Thank you all so so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!!


	11. Candied Almonds

**Baz**

I know what I saw. This time, I don’t think it was in my head. That was real. That really happened.

_Merlin and Morgana_ , that _really happened_!

Simon’s face is flushed, and he’s pulling off his skates, not looking at me.

I decide I’ll wait to bring it up. He’s more likely to tell the truth if he’s caught off guard. If he has time to plan ahead, he has time to lie.

This feels like a brand new form of torture.

Simon Snow lied about not knowing how to ice skate. Of all the things he wouldn’t want me to know, why that? Ice skating isn’t embarrassing.

Unless…

No. That is impossible.

There is no way Simon Snow would lie about knowing how to ice skate so he could cling to my arm like a helpless fool.

He hates me. He’s going to kill me, it’s only ever been a matter of time.

Maybe I’m dead already. Maybe this is what Hell is. I figured it would be a bit of a more direct form of torture, but who am I to question their methods?

I sit down next to him on the bench, and his heart starts beating faster. Oddly enough, I can’t smell smoke. I should be able to smell his magic, it always leaks when he’s stressed. Maybe I’ve gone nose-blind to it from living with him for seven years, but I can’t smell it more than I usually can.

Interesting.

His stomach growls loudly, and he finally glances at me sheepishly. I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling.

“Come on, Snow. Let’s satiate that enormous appetite of yours.”

He grabs my hand and grins, “I was beginning to think you’d never offer.”

“And let you starve?” I smirk. “I’d be a pretty terrible boyfriend if I did that.”

He doesn’t correct me, he just smiles and pulls me towards the smell of roasted chestnuts and coffee.

Why didn’t he correct me? He always corrects me. _Always_. He’s never not reminded me that this is fake. Am I overthinking this? Maybe. Probably.

Definitely.

He squeezes my hand.

“Stop,” he says. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

I shiver from the cold.

“I can’t just turn my thoughts off, Snow. That isn’t how thinking works.”

He looks at me like I just said something stupid.

“Of course you can,” he scoffs. “I do it all the time. Do _not_ use that as an opportunity to insult my intelligence, Basil.”

He never calls me Basil. It’s always Baz, or when he wants to piss me off Basilton or Tyrannus. Never Basil.

I kind of like it. It sounds nice when he’s the one saying it.

“Snow, are you telling me you can just… not think? On purpose?”

He hums in confirmation.

“What kinds of things could you possibly have to not think about?” I hand him a paper cone of candied almonds and he immediately starts shoving them into his mouth. Disgusting.

Adorable.

“Just things that bother me, I guess. The Humdrum. The whole stupid magical destiny thing, if I’m being honest. Being the ‘Chosen One’,” he shrugs.

“Why not, Snow? Being the Chosen One seems right up your alley,” I say, surprised.

He pulls me over to a bench and we sit down.

“Well, it’s not like I have a choice either way, so I don’t think about it,” he frowns, talking with his mouth full of almonds.

“I thought you _liked_ being the hero,” I probe.

“I’m not a hero,” he mumbles.

“Of course you’re the hero Snow-” I start.

“Stop saying ‘the’,” he snaps at me.

“What?” I’m confused.

“You keep saying I’m ‘the’ hero, like it’s a role in a story or something. I’m not ‘the’ hero, because there isn’t anyone who’s ‘the’ villain, or ‘the’ love interest. It’s not a fairy tale, it’s just life.” He sighs.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Snow” I say, somewhat teasingly. “ _Of course_ there’s ‘the’ villain. I don’t appreciate being overlooked, you know.”

He looks at me, and he looks _upset_.

“Don’t say that.”

I look away, but I feel him inch closer to me.

“It’s just the truth, Snow,” I whisper bitterly.

“No, it is not!” He declares angrily. “Baz you aren’t ‘the’ villain! You aren’t even ‘a’ villain! You’re a prick, and a pain in my arse sometimes, sure, but you aren’t my enemy!”

I turn to face him.

“I’m sure that isn’t what you’ll be saying when the opportunity to _finish me off_ comes, Snow,” I growl. Why does he have to make this hurt more than it has to? Can’t he just end it all now, so I don’t have to suffer?

His magic fills the air. I’m definitely not nose-blind to it, it’s almost overpowering.

“How can you say that, Baz?! I’m not going to kill you. Not now, not _ever_ ,” he growls. “Even if I wanted to, which I _don’t_ , I probably wouldn’t live long enough to get the chance.”

**Simon**

Baz lifts his face to look at mine again.

“Don’t say that, Snow.”

“Why?” I laugh harshly like I’ve gone mad, “It’s true.”

He glares at me harsher than he has all day, “No, it is not.”

“Baz,” I say in between mouthfuls of almonds. “Whether it’s you, or the Humdrum, or the Old Families, someone is bound to kill me, and with the way things are going right now, I’m pretty sure it will be sooner, rather than later.”

He stares at me. I realize how horrible I must look, shoveling almonds into my face like I haven’t eaten in days. I take smaller bites and straighten my posture.

“You aren’t going to die, Snow.”

I almost drop the paper cone of almonds onto the ground.

“Yeah, right. Like you haven’t been trying to make that fantasy happen since you _met_ me.”

“Fantasy? _Fantasy_?! What are you, insane, Snow?!”

“Do you want a complete list of every time you’ve tried to kill me, Baz? Because I _do_ have one.”

Baz screws up his face at me in disgust. I probably shouldn’t have said that. That isn’t exactly the most normal thing to keep record of.

“You’re mad if you think I actually want to kill you.”

What?

“You… don’t want to kill me?”

“No, you numpty!”

I should be happy, but I’m slightly offended. Do I really mean that little to Baz? That killing me wouldn’t even be worth the time and effort? I should be thankful, but him wanting to kill me was a big part of our relationship until about a second ago.

“So then _why_ -”

“Because I don’t get a choice _either_ , Simon! I don’t get a happy ending in all this! I’m just another obstacle who’s in the way of your _happily ever after_. I’m just necessary collateral damage, that’s all I’ve _ever been_!”

Collateral damage… That’s just what Agatha had said.

But… Baz isn’t like Agatha. I liked Agatha because I thought I was supposed to. I dated her because I had to.

I love Baz despite not being supposed to.

I shake my head and toss the empty paper cone into the trash.

“No, Baz, you aren’t. And if I have to spend the rest of our lives proving that to you then that’s what I’ll bloody do,” I declare and pull him up off the bench. “Now, come on. You promised me we could get hot chocolate.”

**Baz**

The rest of our lives. _Our_ lives. I don’t understand what’s happening. I can’t stop smiling.

“I’ll never understand you, Snow,” I shake my head.

“Simon.”

“Hm?” I hum in question.

“You called me Simon,” he smiles.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did!”

I shake my head, finally able to school my face into neutral indifference again.

“You’re wrong, Snow.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs me towards a café.

“Are you going to buy me hot chocolate, or not?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo! This chapter took quite a long time to piece together! I actually took an exerpt from the original draft of chapter 6 that I didn't end up using and added it into this chapter! :)
> 
> Thank you all so so much for reading and leaving kudos and comments! (120 kudos is genuinely more than I thought this fic would ever get!! 😳😱)
> 
> I'll be back with more soon!! Love you all!! <3 <3 
> 
> P.S. Candied Almonds are amazing and I love them


	12. Fiona Pitch, Gampire, and Bazilla

**Simon**

When Baz and I finally get back to Pitch Manor he jumps out of the car and starts cursing. There in the carriage house sits a black Bentley that wasn’t there before.

Leaning against the side of the Bentley is Fiona Pitch.

I get out of the car and then realize that was not a good idea, seeing that Fiona would probably prefer me dead rather than alive, but it’s too late to get back in the car so I stand my ground.

Baz steps in front of me, so he’s somewhat made himself an obstacle in case Fiona really does decide to murder me.

“Basilton,” Fiona nods.

“Fiona,” Baz returns flatly.

Fiona pushes herself off the car and struts towards Baz. I feel a disproportionate amount of fear due to her presence.

“You’re a head-trip, boyo. Did you know that?” Fiona smiles and pulls Baz into a hug.

Relief seems to wash over Baz as he hugs her back.

“I’m not the one who ‘fell off the grid’ for three months just because I felt like it,” Baz teases.

Fiona snorts, “People who get kidnapped by fucking numpties don’t get to tell me what to do, Basil.”

“ _Crowley_ , Fiona! It was _one time_!”

Kidnapped?

Baz was kidnapped?

When? Why? By who?

I’ve got a million questions, but I’ll wait until later to ask Baz about it. He glances at me, seeming almost nervous. I give him a small smile of encouragement.

“Ahem,” Baz clears his throat. “Fiona, this is-”

“No need for introductions, boyo,” Fiona brushes him off and turns to me. “Simon Snow. The Chosen One. So, you’re the one who stole poor Baz’s heart.”

Baz chokes but turns his sputtering into a chaste cough.

“Um, yes, ma’am,” I offer my hand and Fiona brushes it aside.

I panic for a second, not knowing what’s happening. But before I realize it, she pulls me into a quick hug that ends as soon as it starts.

“Call me Fiona.”

I nod, so relieved that I think I could cry. Baz looks like he might actually cry.

“But,” Fiona grabs a fistful of my shirt and pulls me close to her with a wicked grin that renews my panic. “If you hurt Baz, I will not hesitate to gut you and dump your body on the desk of your precious Mage, do you hear me Chosen One?”

“Loud and clear,” I gulp and nod.

“Good!” She smiles sweetly, like she didn’t just threaten me with a gruesome death by her hands, and walks towards the house.

I must look a bit dazed, because Baz nudges my shoulder.

“Are you okay, Snow?” His tone is something near indifference, but his face is soft.

“I’m fine,” I shrug. “Your Aunt is the only person who might be able to beat your father in the competition for ‘Scariest Person I’ve Ever Met’, though.”

“What? I don’t even get an honorable mention?” He fake pouts and laces his fingers in mine.

“You wish,” I say and squeeze his hand.

He makes it so believable. It feels so right, being his fake boyfriend.

Even the sight of him tugs on my heartstrings. This was all my fault, a huge mistake on my part.

Maybe the best mistake I’ve ever made.

**Baz**

After Fiona and Simon’s introduction, I am exhausted. I lead Simon back to my room, where he unceremoniously flops onto the couch.

I need to feed. I go back towards the door.

“Hey, Baz?” Simon calls after me.

“Yes?”

“Can we get McDonalds for dinner?”

“Really?” I scoff. “I can get Vera to make you absolutely anything you want, you know.”

“Please?” He pouts at me. “I just really want some McDonalds.”

Of course I’m going to say yes. He could ask me for anything in the world, and I’d break my neck trying to give it to him. The least I can do is get him some McDonalds.

“Fine,” I huff. “What do you want?”

“A large chocolate milkshake, a six piece chicken nuggets, and two hamburgers with extra pickles.”

I wrinkle my nose at him. Extra pickles? Really?

“Two pickles is never enough!” He protests as if he read my thoughts. Thank magic he can’t actually read my thoughts.

“You’re a menace.” I say, my voice thick with boredom.

“Don’t forget my nuggets!” He calls after me as I close the door.

I consider omitting them on purpose, just to be spiteful, but I’m back in my room an hour later, full of fresh blood and holding a large bag of McDonalds.

Simon fell asleep on the couch. His curls are sticking out all over the place, and he’s tucked himself into a ball, like he always does. He’s snoring softly, and he’s got drool all over his hand and face.

Gross.

I want to kiss it. (I’m disturbed, ask anyone.)

As if the smell of the McDonalds activated some ancient feral instinct, Simon suddenly shoots up, wide awake, with a wild and hungry look in his eyes. Fucking terrifying.

A startled sound escapes me when he does that, and I almost drop the bag of toxic waste in fright.

He shoots his hands out, like a toddler.

“Gimme!” He looks crazed.

I settle on my bed and gesture for him to come sit.

“Snow, please, for the love of magic, try not to get milkshake on my bed.”

He takes a sip and rolls his eyes.

“You mean you might have to get a new one if I did? That’s too bad, I just started naming the gargoyles.”

I snort. He’s ridiculous.

“Okay, Snow,” I say as I sip my Dr. Pepper. “What’s that one called, then?” I point at one of the gargoyles randomly.

He stares at it thoughtfully.

“Gampire,” he grins confidently.

I choke on my drink, which makes him laugh.

“Gampire isn’t even a proper name, Snow,” I wheeze in between laughs.

“Anything can be a proper name, Baz!” He finishes one of the burgers in three bites.

“How did you even come up with ‘Gampire’?”

“Well,” He stares at Gampire thoughtfully. “I figured he should be named after you, since you are his other dad.”

My horror must show on my face, because Simon falls over laughing.

“I am _not_ his dad!” I finally sputter.

“Baz! How could you say such a thing about our son!” He gasps, his face bright red from laughing so hard.

Eventually he straightens his act out, but he’s still grinning like a maniac.

“I suppose he’s not really named after you. We’ll have to name one of his siblings after you, for real,” His eyes are full of mischief. He’s ridiculously beautiful.

“I’m not sure I like where this is going,” I say but my smile betrays me.

He points to one slightly lower than Gampire.

“That one! We’ll name him…” He pauses and tries to wiggle his eyebrows at me. “Bazilla!”

I cover my face with my hands. He’s so fucking stupid.

“I think I actually prefer Gampire,” I groan.

He slides up next to me and bumps his shoulder against mine, closing his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Bazilla you said that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops this chapter was really stupid! I liked it tho, so you all have to suffer at the hands of my poor taste.
> 
> Thank you all so so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! :)))
> 
> P.S. WOW thank you guys all so much for your comments, I absolutely adore the feedback!


	13. In the Morning

**Simon**

I wake up in Baz’s arms. We fell asleep on his bed, still in our street clothes, not even under the blankets. I don’t think I’ve ever slept so soundly.

He’s still asleep, and I feel a bit guilty. I should probably move, but he’s holding me so gently, and he’s got a soft smile on his face. I feel like I’m taking advantage of him, but then again, he’s the one holding me captive in his sleep.

It’s Christmas Eve.

I watch him. It seems I’m always watching him.

I let my thoughts flow freely, for once.

I’m feeling a lot of things. Mostly I feel… happy. And grateful.

I’m grateful for a lot of things right now. I’m grateful that Baz isn’t going to kill me. I don’t think he actually hates me as much anymore. I can’t believe how easy it was to get to a place where he doesn’t. I’m grateful that it _was_ easy.

I’m grateful that he’s here, that he’s safe. I went crazy when he was missing. No, not missing, kidnapped. Kidnapped by numpties, I think that’s what Fiona said.

I’m grateful that _Fiona_ didn’t kill me. She’s terrifying, but she loves Baz, and I love Baz, so I guess we’re sort of on the same page in a strange way.

Baz’s brow furrows and he pulls me tighter against him. I don’t think I could get up now, even if I wanted to. I don’t.

I’m grateful that I was wrong, and that I can touch him. It seems rather stupid, thinking back. Of course vampires can touch people. Why wouldn’t they be able to touch people? Right stupid of me to think they couldn’t.

I’m grateful for Watford, and Penny, and Baz, and even Agatha.

I’m sort of grateful that Agatha broke up with me, actually. We really weren’t right together. Even being Baz’s _fake_ boyfriend is better than being Agatha’s real boyfriend. Not that it was Aggie’s fault. We just didn’t work right together.

Do Baz and I work right together?

I think we would. I’d like to find out, at the very least.

He starts to wake up, so I pretend that I’m just waking up too. I rub my eyes, just for show.

“Good morning, Baz!” I try not to sound too awake, but I don’t do a great job. “Happy Christmas Eve!”

Baz makes a sort of strangled noise in his throat and detaches himself from me, which I’m rather disappointed about.

“Morning,” He mumbles blandly.

I get up and make a mad dash for the bathroom. If I don’t get there first, he’ll make me wait all morning.

**Baz**

I just woke up with Simon Snow in my arms.

I’m still in my bloody jeans.

_Great Snakes_.

What is happening? Why didn’t he push me off of him? He was clearly awake before I was.

I’ve got a million questions rolling around wantonly in my head.

Why is he behaving so weirdly?

I’m not sure I want to know the answer.

We take turns getting ready, like always, and head down to breakfast together.

This time, my father is sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading the paper. He never eats breakfast with us. That’s just not something he _does_.

“Baz, Simon,” He nods at us without looking up from his paper.

I feel like I could cry again. I never even hoped my father and I could get this far in terms of acceptance. It’s a bloody Christmas miracle.

He doesn’t say much else, he scolds me for putting so much sugar in my coffee, but he means it lightly, and for once, it’s really truly _just about the sugar_.

Simon inhales his breakfast, per usual, and my father raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t say anything.

When Simon finally stops eating, we get up and walk back towards the stairs, but my father breaks his silence.

“Simon, I would like to speak to you in my study,” he says and my heart sinks. “Alone.”

“Erm, yes, sir,” Simon says timidly.

I really thought it had been going well…

**Malcom**

I have always tried to be a good father to Basil, despite the circumstances. I love him dearly, and I’ve always done what I thought was best for him, but… I was wrong.

I didn’t realize what I was doing was so harmful to him. It breaks my heart to see how I’ve been causing him so much pain all these years.

I just… I wanted it to be easy for him. Being what he is and being who he is makes life so much more complicated for him, and I thought I was finding a way to make his life easier. I was too foolish to notice I was really just making his life miserable.

I don’t care that he’s a vampire. I don’t care that he’s gay. I care that he’s safe. I care that he’s _happy_.

If the bloody Mage’s Heir is what makes him happy, then I’ll welcome him into my son’s life, political implications aside.

I already lost Natasha; I am not going to lose my son too.

Oh, what would Natasha say if she saw Baz and I now?

Natasha, I love you dearly. And my love has made me realize that I was wrong.

When Baz looks at Simon, he has love in his eyes. He looks at him the way I used to look at _you_ , Natasha. And Simon looks at him the same way.

If Simon makes Baz happy, then I don’t care _who_ he is.

Simon knocks on the door of my study, and I open it for him.

“Please take a seat, Mr. Snow. Don’t worry, I won’t take up much of your time.”

“Er, of course, sir,” He fidgets nervously.

I take a seat at my desk and pour myself some tea.

“Tea?”

“No, thank you, sir.”

I place my cup on the saucer in front of me.  
  


“There’s no need to be nervous, Mr. Snow. I simply think I should discuss some things with you, regarding your relationship with Basil.”

“Um, yes, okay,” he stammers.

“I take it you’re familiar with the… political complications that your relationship is going to cause?”

“Er, yes, sir. Or um, well, not exactly, sir? I don’t really think they’re as… important as they were before, sir.”

I’m not sure what Basil’s type is, but I suppose the phrase “opposites attract” was probably not referring to gender in this case.

“Mr. Snow, I’m sure you know how tenuous the relationship between the Old Families and The Mage is, and I highly doubt that your relationship with my son will do anything to ease the tension.”

“Well you see, sir, I’m not really involved in that. I’m here to fight the Humdrum. I don’t have a ‘side’ that I’m on. I’m on my own side, and I’m just here to protect Magic.”

He doesn’t have a political side. He’s neutral.

“Thank you for telling me that. If I may ask, does the Mage know that?”

“Erm, not exactly, sir. I’m not quite sure he’ll take it well.”

“That is an understandable concern,” I say as I stand up. “Just know that, political affiliations aside, I am here to support you and Baz both.”

Simon nods steadily.

“If I may, Mr. Snow, can I ask you about your relationship with Baz?”

“Erm,” he tugs on his hair. “Yes, sir.”

“If it isn’t too invasive, is it serious?”

He looks scared, but he doesn’t shy away from the question like I thought he might.

“Well, I can’t speak for Baz on this, but it is for me, at least, sir.”

He can’t speak for Baz on this? They must be worse at communication than I thought.

But despite everything, I don’t dislike Simon. I’m not exactly fond of him just yet, but I think I could learn. For Baz, I could learn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo! Alright, before anyone gets mad at me for making Malcom a better parent than he actually is, I'm just playing around with his character a bit! I think he's not really painted as a loving father very much by the fandom, and I just wanted to show a version of him that isn't completely awful.
> 
> Your comments give me life 🥺 i really love hearing feedback from you guys! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll hopefully be back with the next one soon! Thanks for reading!
> 
> (oops this fic is getting longer than I anticipated 😳 my pacing is shit)


	14. One Last Terrible Idea

**Baz**

I’m pacing outside my father’s study, waiting for Simon, and trying not to eavesdrop. I’m not succeeding.

So far it seems like it’s going fine. I think my father really just wanted to discuss the political side of things, which is understandable.

“If I may, Mr. Snow, can I ask about your relationship with Baz?”

Fuck. So much for it going fine!

I should stop them, before Simon has to make something up on the spot. We never came up with the details of our relationship. I never thought my father would care to ask about them.

“Erm. Yes, sir.”

No no no no no _no_ no no! No!

I reach for the door handle.

“If it’s not too invasive, is it serious?”

Shit. I freeze.

If Snow says yes, he’ll be stuck in a fake relationship with me for a lot longer than we’d planned. If he says no, my father will probably kick him out of the house on the spot.

“Well, I can’t speak for Baz on this,” He starts shakily, but he suddenly gains confidence. “But it is for me, at least, sir.”

That was… not what I thought he’d say.

For once, he may have said just the right thing.

He’s managed make it look like he’s the one who wants a serious relationship, and that I’m the one having doubts. This way, when it’s all over, I can say I dumped him because I needed something more casual. It’s bloody brilliant, even if it breaks my heart.

Maybe Snow thought about this ahead of time. Maybe, for once, he’s outsmarted me. I almost shudder at the thought.

“If that’s all, sir, Baz and I have a school project that we need to work on,” Simon mumbles, loosing whatever confidence he’d previously gained.

“That’ll be all, Simon,” My father called him Simon. _I_ don’t even call him Simon. “I’m very glad to have you here with us for the holidays.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m very glad to be here.” I can practically hear Snow’s smile in his voice.

Simon collides with me as he walks out.

**Simon**

Fuck. I didn’t think Baz would be listening to that. That conversation was a bit too close to the truth for my comfort. Now that I know Baz likely heard all of it, I’m screwed.

“Well?” I ask, waiting for him to point out my mistakes.

“Well what?” I can’t read his emotions.

“How did I do? Don’t pretend you didn’t hear everything, I _know_ you did,” I try not to sound too upset about that.

“It was a brilliant idea, Snow. Really, I don’t know how you came up with it on the spot.”

Idea? What idea?

I didn’t have an idea. At least… I don’t think I did. I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I’d had an idea. I don’t usually forget my ideas, even though they always turn out terrible.

“What idea, Baz?” I finally ask him, searching his face for an answer. I don’t find one.

“About saying I’m not taking the relationship seriously. That way my father won’t hate you after our fake break-up,” He whispers.

And then I get it. I get why I can’t tell what he’s feeling.

He’s shutting me out.

He’s _always_ shutting me out!

_Why_? What could be so terrible that he doesn’t want me to see? I’ve seen the “worst” parts of him, and not had an issue with it, why does he keep _hiding_ from me?

Why is he scared? What is he so _afraid of_? …What am _I_ so afraid of?

He keeps shutting me out, and I keep hiding stuff from him.

I’ve been telling myself that unless he asks me directly, it isn’t lying. …But it’s not telling the truth, either. And that’s about as good as lying. I can’t keep lying to him. If I even want a chance to win him over for real, I have to be honest.

I grab his hand and drag him towards the front door of Pitch Manor.

“Snow? What are you-”

“Put your coat on,” I growl and throw his jacket at him, followed by his scarf and gloves.

“What’s your problem, Snow?” Baz snarls back at me.

“Coat. On. Now.”

He grumbles something about me being a stubborn numpty, but I yank my own coat on and pretend not to hear.

Then, I get another idea. It’s terrible, even I can see that, but I’m running low on material here.

I grab two of Baz’s scarves from the coat rack and stuff them both into my coat pockets.

I wait for Baz to finish buttoning his coat, and grab his arm again, pulling him to the carriage house.

I have a plan. I hope it works.

“Snow! What are you doing?” Baz hisses as I shove him towards the jaguar.

“Get in.”

He looks at me like I’m insane, which I probably am, but he listens.

“Drive,” I command.

“Use your _words_ , Snow,” He hisses, but follows it up with a huffy “Where am I supposed to _drive_?”

“Baz,” I huff and the smell of my magic fills the car. “I do not particularly care where you decide to drive, just bloody do it, please!”

“Snow, _what is going on_?”

“I-I can’t,” I shake my head, and Baz frowns at me. “I’ll tell you when we get out of here.”

Baz looks reluctant, but he hesitantly pulls out of the driveway and onto the road.

After five minutes of driving in tense silence, I find what I’m looking for.

“Pull over.”

“Snow, what is going on?” Baz sounds more and more concerned each time he asks me that.

I get out of the car, and practically pry him out of the driver’s side.

I lead him into the woods. The snow is deeper than I anticipated, and he’s yelling at me to tell him what’s happening, or where we’re going. We finally reach a clearing, and I finally stop.

“Snow, if you don’t explain why you’ve dragged me out into the middle of the woods on Christmas Eve, I don’t care what-”

“Baz,” I interrupt, and look down at our joined hand, gabbing his other one, and holding them between us. “Do you remember our rules?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii... oops I'm sorry about the cliffhanger haha
> 
> I'm kinda dragging this out because a lot goes down in the next bit and I'm unsure if that's how I want it to go yet. (Also a little bit because I don't want it to end)
> 
> I've got a bunch of fics in the works right now, so if you enjoyed this one and maybe would like to read more of my work, those will be up soon!
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> P.S. Your comments make this 10000% better, you're all so sweet! Love you all! <3 <3


	15. Breaking the Rules

**Baz**

Merlin and Morgana, if Snow dragged me into the middle of bloody nowhere to ask me if I secretly started courting Wellbelove, I’ll set myself on fire right here.

“Snow, you can’t possibly think I’m chasing Wellbelove, that’s-”

“No, Baz. The _other_ rules,” He interrupts me. Again.

“Of course I remember _my_ rules. What does that have to do with you kidnapping me and bringing me into the middle of the woods like your hostage?” I glare at him.

“What was rule number three, Baz?” He’s got that wild look in his eyes that never leads to anything but trouble.

“No telling anyone it’s fake,” I say softly, my voice betraying me.

He nods.

“And rule number two?” He squeezes my hands.

“I get to pick out everything you wear,” I sigh. “Snow, where is this going?”

“Baz,” He lets go of my hands and backs up a few steps.

He takes out two scarves from his coat pockets. My scarves. Why does he have my scarves?

“Which one should I wear, Baz?”

“What?”

“Which scarf should I wear? The red one, or the green one?”

“Snow, I don’t think this is really-”

“Just pick one, Baz,” he snaps at me.

“Red,” I say, because I don’t have the energy to care right now.

“Hmm…” Snow looks at the red one thoughtfully, before tossing it into the snow and wrapping the green one around his neck. “I’m going to wear the green one instead.”

I wait a beat.

Nothing happens.

Simon’s standing there, with his arms crossed, wearing the green scarf and a stupid smug look on his face.

**An Englishman’s Word is His Bond** is supposed to shock your right arm if you break your promise. Simon promised I would choose his clothing. He just broke his promise, and nothing happened.

The spell didn’t work.

He’s suddenly very close to me, much closer than I’d realized.

“The spell didn’t work, Baz.”

He’s so close to me. He’s got this soft look in his eyes, and I can’t help but stare at his lips. I feel my back hit a tree, and I hadn’t even noticed, but he has me cornered.

“I knew it wouldn’t work,” Simon’s voice is low, and he’s got that look on his face that confused me at the ice rink.

I think I might kiss him.

“Simon…,” I say.

And then _he_ kisses _me_.

**Simon**

If Baz thinks I’m ever letting him go, he’s wrong. I’ve finally got him where I want him. And it feels like maybe I’ve wanted him _forever_. It took me a little time to figure it out for myself, but it’s so perfect, so _right_ , there isn’t a doubt in my mind that this is where we’re supposed to be.

**Baz**

Is this a good kiss? I don’t know. I’ve never kissed anyone before. I’ve never _wanted_ to kiss anyone but him.

He’s pushing me, so I push back. He’s got me practically pinned against the tree now.

I’m kissing _Simon Snow_.

_Simon Snow_.

_Simon Snow_ is kissing _me_.

_Aleister Crowley_ , I’m living a charmed life.

**Simon**

Eventually Baz pulls away, and we’re both gasping for breath.

“Simon…,” Baz breathes and he looks at me like I hung the stars.

We don’t make it back to Pitch Manor until the sun’s sunk low in the sky, with our lips swollen and hair messy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiii!! Sooooo what do you think? It is NOT the end of the fic, by the way! They haven't communicated at all, they just kissed! (I know it's out of character for them to communicate but i'm gonna try)
> 
> Thank you all so so much for reading (and extra thanks to those of you who leave comments and kudos <3)! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I'll hopefully be back with more soon!!
> 
> P.S. In my head it's the same clearing from Chapter 61 (just not on fire) Idk that's just how I picture it


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